


Fuel For The Fire, Water For The Snow

by Pameluke



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Anal Administration Of A Grenade, Backstory, Canonical Character Death, Cherno Alpha - Freeform, Explosions, F/M, Kaiju, Kidnapping, Pre-Canon, Sasha is a BAMF, The Drift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:45:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pameluke/pseuds/Pameluke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lives and Deaths of Sasha Kaidanovsky</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuel For The Fire, Water For The Snow

**November 2012**

 

She touches up her lipstick one more time before she grabs her tiny purse and heads back into the restaurant. She’s so close to victory she can smell it, but she needs to tamp down the adrenaline to stay focused. Lena counts on her, and she’s the only one who can get her out.

When she rejoins the table, Alexander Langerak smiles at her and grabs her by the wrist.

“Let’s go upstairs, yes? Have some fun?” he says.

“Yes, lets.”

It cost her a whole lot of favors, 3 weeks of building her profile as an escort with Langeraks favorite escort business, and plenty of abuse of her father’s resources, but she’s finally got him where she wants him. Blindfolded, gagged and handcuffed to the bedposts. Men, always stupid when thinking with their dick. She leaves him lying there for a minute, to steal his kevlar vest, before she straddles him again and removes his blindfold. His eyes widen when he sees her.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you. That thing up in your ass? Not a vibrator, but a grenade,” she says, before waving her hand in front of his face. “And this is the detonator. So lets be smart and do as I say, or else we go boom. Is Elena Kharlamova still alive? If she’s not, I’ve got nothing left to lose,  so what about you? _Is she still alive?_ ”

Langerak nods frantically. 

“That’s good for the both of us. Is she in the building?”

He nods again. 

“Listen closely. You’re going to call your man, and tell him to escort Elena outside, tell him you’ve struck a deal with her father and are letting her go. When I get a call she’s safe, I’m walking out the door. If she’s harmed, we go boom. If I get attacked on the way out, you go boom. If any of your men come even near this room, we go boom. Do I make myself clear?”

He nods.

 

She’s standing in the snow, Lena sobbing in her coat while she makes the call to Langeraks landline. It goes to voicemail, so she’s certain he can hear her.

“Next time you kidnap a general’s daughter to gain leverage over him, make sure he doesn’t have any older children. And keep in mind that bastards of a general are still children of a general.” She disconnects, and tugs Lena a little closer.

“Come on Lena, we’re going home. You’re safe now, you’re alive.”

 

At the end of the street, she clicks the detonator. She feels the heat of the explosion at her back, and the warmth of revenge floods her blood.

 

  

**December 2014**

 

There’s no funeral. There’s not even a mass-grave. There’s just destruction and the confirmation no-one survived.

She travels by plane. Doesn’t sleep, because the fury and heartbreak keeps her awake.

She wants to murder him. How could he be so stupid? How could he be so careless? How could he leave her so close by the coast? This is not the time to keep your family, your children at a military base so close by the ocean. Especially if you’re not there yourself.

She makes sure her appearance is flawless before she boards off. Men think she’s a pretty made-up doll, but they don’t realize it’s her war-paint. And she’s going to war, even if she has to kill him.

 

Her father isn’t happy to see her, even though she’s his last living relative now. But then he never really thought of her as his child, just as a responsibility, a dirty secret to stash away. Bastard daughter of a general and a maid, who has use for those? But he paid for her education, made sure she could defend herself, and he let her be a sister to Lena.

 

Lena, who’s laughter she’ll never hear again. Lena, who was one of the many victims of the first Kaiju attack on Russian soil. Lena, who’s no longer alive.

 

“Alexandra, you shouldn’t be here.” 

“The Jaeger program. You’re putting me forward as a pilot.”

“The Jaeger program? How do you even know about that?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got the fighting skills, I’ve got the focus, and I’ve got the connections. I’ve got you.”

“Alexandra, that’s really not a place for a woman.”

“Fuck that. You know it’s not about that, it’s about finding someone you’re drift compatible with, about having a solid neural handshake, what’s between my legs has fuck all to do with it.” She takes a breath to regain her composure, squares her shoulders, and looks him in the eyes.

“Those monsters killed Lena. Now I’m going to kill them. If I don’t qualify, fine, but we both know I will. I’m going to war, and you’re going to make sure I get there.”

“Sasha, don’t make me lose you too. Let me keep you safe.”

“There’s no such a thing as safe anymore. I’ve got nothing left to live for, so just let me take some of them with me.”

 

The snow is falling thick outside, but she doesn’t feel the cold. She doesn’t feel anything. She’s going to war.

 

 

**February 2018**

 

She finds him in the mess area, sharing drinks with a couple of other prospects. She’s done her research, studied what made people click who aren’t related, did a background check on all of them. She think’s it’s about balancing tempers, about complementing personalities. But most of all it’s about a willingness to trust, trust that your co-pilot won’t let you down, won’t spill your secrets. Won’t judge.

She doesn’t trust anyone but herself, so instead she searched for the best un-partnered prospects, and then did a background check on them.

Out of all of them, Kaidanovsky looked shadiest, because she couldn’t find anything. Which can only mean he has a lot of secrets of his own, and that’s the kind of partner she wants. Now she only has to make sure he gives her a chance.

 

When she approaches his table, two of his buddies leer at her. She’s wearing the same uniform as them, so there’s not actually all that much to leer at, but she figures none of them have gotten laid in a while, and she is wearing her war paint. She ignores them, and focuses on Kaidanovsky, who’s looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a little bit of a smirk. He looks younger than she expected, but then he’s a lot younger than her. She can work with that.

 

“Kaidanovsky? I want you to test with me.” His friends snicker at her statement, but Kaidanovsky just smiles.

“Everybody wants to test with me, why would I want to test with you?”

“You’re a good fighter, but you’ve got a temper problem, and so far it’s thrown everybody out of the neural handshake. You’re too angry, not enough in control. I am. I’ve got the most stable neural handshake at this base. You want to pilot a Jaeger? I’m your best shot. You’re not going to make it on your own.”

“If you weren’t a lady, I’d hit you for that. I don’t need you to make it as a pilot.”

She nods at his balled fists.

“It’s exactly that attitude that makes finding you a partner so hard. Come and find me if you’re tired of wasting yours and everybody’s time.”

She turns around and makes her way through the onlookers, but she turns around before she’s reached the end of them.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m many things, but I’m not a lady.”

 

Three weeks later he agrees to test with her.

 

The Drift is harder than she thought it would be. He has so much anger, so much rage, it’s nearly overwhelming. But she stay’s focused, lets the memories take her, both hers and his, floating in the back of her mind. It’s like looking at something from the corner of her eye, seeing without really seeing what’s happening. But there’s so much feeling there.

She doesn’t try to steer her own memories, doesn’t try to pry in his. She sees her reading a story to Lena in front of the fire, she’s him making a giant snowman. She sees her father teaching her to shoot her first fire-arm, she sees his father beating him into the ground. She sees her mother drinking herself to death, she sees his mother leaving. She sees her rescuing Lena, feels the warmth of the explosion again, she sees him strangling his father, blood on the snow, cold tears on his cheeks.

 

Fire and snow, she thinks. We’re fire and snow. 

 

 

**September 2019**

 

The alarm while she’s having her morning coffee, and she knows it’ll be their turn before Cherno Alpha is announced. She hurries towards their quarters, where Aleksis has obviously just rolled out of bed.  She’s lucky she was already mostly in her uniform. He’s cursing at his trousers while she grabs her lipstick. Can’t go to war without her warpaint. She sees him kissing the charm around his neck and wonders when they became this superstitious. But then they’re about to mind-meld with a machine to fight giant monsters, so they’ll need all the luck in the world.

She grabs Aleksis’ arm before they suit up.

“Today we die,” she says.

“Today we live,” he replies, and then they’re off. 

They’ve practiced deployment so many times by now, everything runs smoothly. Her suit is familiar, the helmet a comfortable weight now that she hasn’t had to wear it for hours yet.

 

_3…2…1 Initiating neural handshake._

 

Aleksis anger isn’t comfortable yet, but it’s familiar as well, like an old ache in her bones. The memories are a song of youth and destruction, of pain and heartbreak, but that is familiar as well. There’s a new one of one of them eating borsjt, she can taste it on her lips, and she’s not sure if it’s his memory or hers. The quick flash of naked flesh, fucking against a wall is definitely his though, and she grins at his embarrassment.

 

“Don’t worry, still not a lady,” she says, and then they’re out, in the ocean, threading through the water. The first snow of the year is falling, and visibility is horrible, as always, but she can feel the monster coming, feels the vibrations in the air, in her skin, in her blood, even though that isn’t technically possible. When it suddenly pops up in front of them it’s so much larger than she expected, so much more frightening. She feels Aleksis anger spike, and focuses on their connection, to the Jaeger, to each other. These monsters killed Lena, she’s not going to let them kill any more people. _They aren’t going to let it_.

 

3 hours later Aleksis is roaring next to her, and the Kaiju sinks down to the bottom of the ocean. They’ve won, their perimeter hasn’t been breached. She’s not sure how they did it, everything is a haze of anger and water and pain. But they won. 

 

When they finally disembark, Aleksis grabs her arm and hunches down a bit to look into her eyes.

 

“Today we live,” he says.

“Tomorrow we die,” she answers.

 

 

**October 2022**

 

For once Lyosha is holding back on his temper, his usual fury not a strain in the back of her mind, but a fire burning, warming her from the inside out. Their movements have never been more in sync, their strategy has never been more flawless, and killing the kaiju is almost easy. Almost. Every muscle she has is protesting, and she’s so fucking tired but it’s more a mental awareness than an actual feeling. The Kaiju lies dead in the snow, there’s a blizzard swirling around Cherno Alpha and visibility is nil, but she doesn’t care. There’s death and coldness all around her, but for once she doesn’t feel it.

“Today we live!” Lyosha roars, and she can’t help but laugh with him. It’s the first time she laughs in 5 years.

Hours later they’ve made their way back to base, to the pats on their backs, the offers of vodka and congratulations on their third kill, to endless debriefing and finally hot stew and a hot shower.

She’s still wired, high on adrenaline, and she can still feel Lyosha’s fire in her mind. Normally she’s better at losing the last tendrils of the Drift, she knows it’s an illusion, they aren’t connected anymore. But the feeling of him under her skin won’t leave her, no matter how hard she scrubs. And maybe she doesn’t want to.

When she enters their quarters, and sees him standing by the closet, towel loosely hanging around his hips, she’s startled to realize it’s desire burning under her skin. She wants him, the broad expanse of his back, his hairy calves, the tattoos circling his shoulder. She wants his anger and his fury and his thirst for life. He’s hers, and she wants him.

“Lyosha,” she says, but when he turns around she’s unsure what to say.

“That’s the first time you call me that,” he says with a grin. “Out loud that is.”

“I know.”

“Today was a good day Sasha. We fought, we won, we lived.” He says, and taps her on the cheek. 

“It was, I just…” She looks up at him, at his face almost as familiar as his mind, and suddenly she knows. She _knows_ him.

“I want to make it even better” she says, and then she jumps him.

His hands grab her ass without hesitation, and when she kisses he just grabs tighter, her towel jumbled up between them. His beard scratches and he uses a bit too much tongue - it’s sloppy really - but she doesn’t care because he’s solid and warm in the chilly room and he’s hers.

He takes two steps backwards and then they fall on his bed, hands roaming everywhere. He grabs the hair in her neck and sucks at her troat, mumbles into her skin. “Took you long enough.” His other hand slips between her legs, not gentle, not too rough, but propriety. It’s perfect but not enough, so she pushes down on his chest, pinches his nipple and tells him to “shut up, and _fuck.”_

He reaches under his pillow and grins while he hands her a condom. “Always be prepared”

“You’re such a good soldier”

He stops grinning and sucks in a breath when she lowers herself down on him. His cock is large and broad and warm, like everything about him, and for a brief moment she wonders if she’s ever met a cock who resembled their owner so much. But she stops thinking about that when she finds the right angle, her hands on his chest, grinding down on him. It’s _so_ good, and her orgasm hits her fast and unexpectedly. He lets her catch her breath for a moment, his large hands caressing her side and her thighs in one long firm stroke before he grabs her by the hips and starts fucking up into her. It’s hard and fast and everything she wants. He pulls her down for a kiss, one hand pressing down on her lower back, the other in her hair again. He’s everywhere around, his warmth and his strength and his sheer solidness and she revels in it. When she comes again it’s with a scream muffled in his neck, and he just keeps going. When he comes she’s nothing but a melted puddle of goo holding on for the ride.

It’s fantastic and she’s never felt more alive.

 

  

**April 2025**

 

_Today we die,_ she thinks as the acid eats its way through Cherno, as the water breaks in their cockpit. And fuck this, she doesn’t want to. She has reasons to live.

“Today we die!” Aleksis screams, and she knows it’s over then.

 

She doesn’t feel the explosion.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed.
> 
> About the Russian names, I feel like Pacific Rim fucked up there, since Sasha is a diminutive of either Alexander or Alexandra, so it's my headcanon her actual first name is Alexandra. Lyosha is the common diminutive of Aleksei, which is the closest actual Russian name for Aleksis.
> 
> I've got no idea what month of the year it was when they actually died, but I liked the idea that it was spring.


End file.
